The physical embodiment of the figurative Iron Curtain, the Berlin Wall stood as the border between East and West in post-World War II Europe, prohibiting free movement in the German Capital. However, authorities of East Germany, then known as the German Democratic Republic (G.D.R.), had a different notion, referring to the concrete barrier as the Anti-Fascist Protection Rampart that protected citizens from fascist influences of the West and prevention of free will. In reality, it did quite the opposite.
More than just steel and concrete—it was the division between two worlds, evident in the stark contrasts on either side up until 1989. On the west side, colorful urban art and graffiti adorned the wall. Whereas on the monotone gray east side, void of creativity and feeling, armed soldiers stood like statues prohibiting movement to the other side. There could be few better visual metaphors for life in each half of the divided city. The effects ranged far beyond the ends of the wall. The wine scene on either side suffered the same fate.
GOOD BYE, LENIN?
In open West Germany during that time, the wine industry evolved, for better or for worse, still allowing private ownership, creativity and diversity. Even though renowned German wine regions, such as Mosel, Pfalz and Rheingau, were affected by the war and needed a few decades
